


Long Nights

by FixerRefutation



Series: beautiful summer daze [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Nightmares, Sleep, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepy Kisses, Virtual Reality, Waking up in the middle of the night, a cat as mentioned before, four people a house cause team danganronpa's pretty rich, just one tho cause i'm weak, mentions of Pokémon, these are long tags gosh, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:52:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation
Summary: Kokichi can't sleep.It's a normal occurrence by now.





	Long Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoraNat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoraNat/gifts).



> yoyoyo it's me back at it again with a oneshot
> 
> this is after the game, everyone are teens that live together because they can, and well  
> enjoy!

Kokichi turns in his bed. The vents give off a warm  _ hum _ as the air conditioner works consistently to keep the occupants cool. Muffled snoring can be heard on the thinner side of Kokichi’s wall, and he’s given up on sleeping at this point partly due to it. A pale hand wipes at his forehead, a bit sweaty and warmer than usual. He swore at this rate, by the end of summer, he’d be as tan as  _ Gonta. _

 

Summer in Japan really..sucked. It’s humid, it’s sticky, and it’s  _ so very  _ hot. He can’t even gather up the energy to leave the home that Team Danganronpa provided for them after the killing game. 

 

He groaned, hugging a fluffy body pillow by his side, feeling restless. A quick glance at the clock said it was 2:53 am, and his blurry mind recognized it as close to ‘ghost hour’, mostly because Kaito kept warning the others about it-what, four, six hours ago? ...Well, it didn’t concern him, anyway. 

 

But it was  _ going  _ to be 3 am soon, and he  _ really should sleep _ , considering that school was tomorrow-which one would figure you’d get it easy because you participated in a  _ killing game and was hospitalized for people’s entertainment _ -, and everyone was likely asleep by now, anyways. 

 

Yeah, he should just… close his eyes.   
  


And count some nonexistent sheep.

 

Floating sheep?

 

Sure.

 

…

 

... _ it’s not working.  _ He thrashes around under the covers with a small burst of pent up energy in that moment where he tried to sleep. Turning his head to cover his face with a pillow, he screams and bangs his fists on it.  _ He can’t sleep because of that damned game and his damned death. _ It haunts him, follows him around like a transparent apparition, evident in his classmate’s expressions and their awed glances at the celebrity at the back of their class.

 

(He remembers when Kaito, over in the next room, wakes up, choking on nothing as Kokichi quietly listens through the walls. He tries to help when it’s the middle of the night and everyone else is asleep, he really does, but all Kaito does is stare at him unnervingly and push him away, glistening bits of pink on his lips and a hoarse throat the next day.)

 

It’s affected Shuichi too, the deaths of everyone, and Kokichi sometimes hears a creak of the doors at four thirty in the morning, and a soft sob as it  _ clicks _ faintly, leaving him in the company of the moon and the few stars that persist in the pollution-clouded nights.

 

It’s quiet when he goes downstairs, finally filled with the courage to go into the empty living room to- watch a movie or something. The kitchen has a big window, bigger than him, that Kaito usually likes to pull the blinds up in the middle of the night because of the stars and the moon that cast a soft shadow on the counter.

 

He waits for a moment, looking up the stairs to the second floor as if making sure no one was awake at this time. One of Hoshi’s many cats that he leaves here often for the four of them to take care of (mostly because he didn’t have enough room for all sixteen of his cats) stare at him, rubbing his leg as he opens the fridge and takes out some leftover gyoza.

 

“Hey, Shu,” he whispers to the Russian blue. Shu purrs, a low rumble, allowing him to pick up the cat with one hand and balance the gyoza in the other.

 

Creeping to the living room and holding the cold gyoza, he fumbles a bit with the TV before it casts a blue light on the room, the main character of some anime channel opening their mouth-   
  
“PIKACHU, LIGHTNI-” Kokichi’s hands find his ears, and he mutes the television as the cat hisses indignantly. He’d forgotten that the others played this  _ just dance _ game a while back in the morning. He’d left with Angie and Himiko, being unable to take the extremely loud music that shook the furniture.

 

A little  _ creak _ of the stairs, and Kokichi’s heart stops. He darts to the stairs, Shu hissing,  _ even more annoyed  _ without the human heat by the cat’s side. He peers up the stairs.

  
..nothing.

 

He slowly goes back to the couch, feeling tired. He pets Shu absentmindedly as he keeps the volume low. The cat’s warm against him, heart beating slow and steady, and he closes his eyes.

 

_ The hanger is awash in greens. Blood, pinkish in the lights hanging overhead spins around in a blur of two colors. His body is smothered in millions of cuts, arrows lodged firmly in his back and in his arm. Slow, burning pain obliterate his insides, and he  _

 

_ Gonta smiles. _

 

_ Gonta’s dead. _ __  
  


_ He’s dead. _

__  
_ She’s dead. _ __  
_  
_ __ His fault. All his fault. Monster. 

 

_ Failure. _

 

He spasms awake, choking on a flurry of nothing but  _ crimson pink _ ,  _ spilling out of his body and his organs and his lungs oh god his lungs bones bones- _

 

Shu rests on his lap, a reminder that he wasn’t in the hanger anymore, things were  _ fine _ , everyone was  _ alive _ . He slowly, steadily calms down as Shu purrs in his lap like an engine. His rushed breathing and muffled screams die down as he strokes the cat’s fur. God, if only therapy could be  _ like this. _ Animal therapy sounded  _ really nice  _ right now. 

 

He takes a brief glance at a hat on the dining table, and after convincing Shu to let him go get it, he puts it on the russian blue’s head, snickering at the sudden confusion of the cat as to where all the light had gone. 

 

“Tha-nks, Shu..” He whispers, voice breathless, turned low. He checks the time on the TV. It’s..four in the morning now, and he doesn’t hear the creak of a door opening, and a few minutes later, Shuichi rushes down, hair messy and still in a shirt and shorts, dark bags much like Kokichi’s underneath frenzied eyes. “Ko- _ kokichi _ ,” the detective breathes out frantically. “ _ God, _ please don’t scare me like that.”

 

The former leader doesn’t answer, head drooped. 

 

Shuichi’s breath catches in his throat. “Ko-kokichi?” He nears the purplenette, and right when he’s closest-

 

An arm reaches out, pulling Shuichi down just enough so he feels a soft pressure on his cheek before it pulls away and laughs drowsily. “Hi, shumai…” 

 

Shuichi is frozen, flushing red all the way down to his neck. A part of him wants to convulse on the floor and laugh hysterically, but the more rational part of his brain knows Kokichi’s probably just sleepy and didn’t know what he was doing. The leader pats the space next to him, and Shuichi’s distantly aware of sitting down, excitement and lethargy clashing in his mind.

 

They spend the next few minutes flicking past some more shows, and when a head bumps softly on his shoulder, he’s already asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> “..i wanna take away all the bad endings [of this game], and leave you with only the good ones.”


End file.
